The Seafood International Market & Restaurant boasts, "If it swims, we have it."
By which they mean, naturally, "If it used to swim, we have it." Or, in the case of this lovely mermaid, "If it used to swim and has been hoisted onto a table, trapped, never to return to its natural home, we have it."
What's remarkable about this image, of course, is the presence of a half- (or near-) human. In this, it demonstrates suicidefoodism's total domination of our better natures. For it announces—do listen for the trumpets—that even near- (or half-) humans can wish to die for our culinary satisfaction. And doing so, they are fair game.
Our mermaid, her breasts demurely scaled, is fresh from the sea—her hair is still stringy with brine. Having been plopped onto the table, she doesn't wriggle. No, she invites you to dig in, her flukes coyly raised. It's a heady invitation, indeed, this comely amphibian makes. And the diners flock to her table. They fumble with their chopsticks. They dig in.
Which raises the question: how much humanity is required to render a potential meal inedible? Would a pig with human ears be spared? Or a chicken with an Adam's apple?
Our undine, who might very well have swum headlong into the net, doesn't wish to be spared, but instead to be devoured raw, like a common fish.